Last night, I was just about asleep, when a thought struck me: in just a couple of months, Sam will be ready to eat baby cereal!

Seriously, these are the kinds of things that keep me awake at night.

When Charlotte was a baby, every stage seemed to stretch out to infinity. Do you know what I mean? Brand new infancy, with its constant night-waking and nursing, felt at the time like it was lasting years. Charlotte smiled for the first time when she was just over a month old, as did Sam. With Charlotte, though, it seemed as though she had been around forever, just crying and sleeping and waking and eating and pooping for ages, before cracking that first smile. Sam's smile snuck up on me. Like, what's that? Wait, you're not old enough for that! (Consults Charlotte's baby book). Oh, I guess you are. Carry on, then.

Sam's fifteen weeks old. Yesterday I busted the exersaucer and bumbo seat out and he's used both of them, briefly. Again, it felt like Charlotte was centuries old before she broke in those things. Sam feels fresh out of the hospital and he's trying to sit up! Chortling! Conversing in a secret baby language consisting of coos and grunts! How did this happen!?

That's an approximation of what went through my head last night as I tried, again, to fall asleep. Those of you who are parents to more than one child will assure me this is normal, but for me it feels anything but. It's surprising, but it's all brand new all over again.